


Endgame

by artenon



Series: Good Morning, Asshole [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1198740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Eren and Jean finally meet in real life, and Eren is in danger of dying of happiness. Oh, and Mikasa is there, too. Sequel to Good Morning, Asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endgame

**Author's Note:**

> This is not the sequel you lovely readers deserve, but it is all I have to offer you (for now? no promises i'm sorry i'm awful at finishing fics). Please accept my humble offering.
> 
> I just...really wanted to write a ridiculously cute fic where Eren and Jean meet at the airport akjfdh.
> 
> Rating for language.

“I think I might hyperventilate,” Eren said, clutching Mikasa’s arm.

Mikasa tried to shake him off, to no avail. “You’ll do no such thing. I’m not sure why I’m even here.”

“I thought you wanted to be at the ready in case this was all an elaborate ruse and Jean turns out to be a creepy stalker who wants to kill me.”

“You’ve been dating for a year,” Mikasa said. “And I’ve seen how you two act around each other. I’m not too worried.”

“Moral support, then,” Eren said through gritted teeth, hands squeezing harder as Mikasa again tried to push him away. “My stomach is doing flip-flops. I think—oh, God, I think I might throw up.”

“There’s a trash can over there, I swear, if you vomit on me—”

“Mikasa!” Eren said, closing his eyes. “Please.”

Mikasa sighed and put her arms around him, and Eren released his death grip on her arm to hug her back properly.

He was just. He’d dreamed of the day he and Jean would finally meet in real life. Daydreamed, really, playing out all the scenarios in his head. His favorite was the one where they ran to each other across the crowded airport and kissed right there, in the middle of everyone. Sometimes Eren dipped him, sometimes Jean did. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was Jean was _there_. _With him_.

He wanted to see Jean in person so bad.

And, yeah, they’d been dating for a little over a year now, but it still felt surreal to think that this was actually happening. Today. In a matter of minutes.

They’d been hoping to get together the money in time for Jean to fly out for their one-year anniversary, but ended up missing it by a few weeks. Still, it was pretty amazing that they’d managed to scrape together the money at all.

Mikasa had opened art commissions to help them out. Some people had _donated_ , for goodness’s sake, given them money for nothing. And Eren felt guilty about accepting it, even if it was just a few dollars, because it wasn’t like they were in desperate need of it. Shit, what was this even for? The opportunity to make out with and hopefully fuck his boyfriend for the first time? (Okay, Eren wasn’t quite that shallow; he was hoping for some cuddles and handholding, too. And whatever other activity involved physical contact, because who knew when they would get this chance again?)

“This hug is lasting a while,” Mikasa commented. “Normally I wouldn’t complain, but it’s actually worrying me. Also, you’re going to miss him.”

Eren gave her a quick, final squeeze and stepped back, wiping his palms on the front of his jeans.

“Okay. I’m okay. I’m ready. I’m. Fuck. Okay.”

He picked up the sign, because of course he’d made a sign. It said, “MY ASSHOLE ♥,” in pink glittery letters, because it was funny at the time. Now, he was getting a few weird (and a few unkind, oops profanity) looks, and, well, it was still funny. Or he figured it would be, if he wasn’t so nervous.

“Do you see him?” Eren asked, mouth dry, as he surveyed the surge of people.

“Not yet,” Mikasa said, but Eren hardly heard her, because there he was.

_There he was._

Eren held the sign up high over his head, resisting the urge to yell Jean’s name, because he wouldn’t hear him anyway.

He knew the moment Jean saw the sign, because his face split into a huge, goofy grin, and Eren’s heart melted. And then Jean’s eyes met his, and his heart quickly reformed for the express purpose of stuttering to a stop.

He could see the news articles now. _Cause of death: Saw his boyfriend in person for the first time._

He’d imagined this a thousand times. They were going to run to each other. Eren was going to dip Jean and kiss him. Or Jean was going to dip Eren and kiss him.

What actually happened was this:

Eren shoved the sign at Mikasa, who made a startled noise of protest. They did run to each other. And then they ran _into_ each other. Jean all but collided into him, and Eren staggered back, wrapping his arms around him.

They didn’t kiss. They stood there in the middle of the crowd, clinging to each other as if the other might disappear if they let go.

“Oh, God,” Eren whispered. “Oh, God.”

He was holding onto Jean so hard it was a wonder he could still breathe. Jean was rubbing circles on Eren’s back, which made him whimper and try to push closer, which was, unfortunately, physically impossible, so he just repeated, under his breath, “Oh, God.”

Jean buried his face in Eren’s shoulder and drew in a breath that Eren could feel through his whole body.

“Hi,” Jean said, quiet.

“Hi,” Eren returned. “You’re _here_.”

His voice wavered and Jean pulled back a little, but only so he could see his face; he didn't move his hands.

“You’re not going to cry on me, are you?”

“No!” Eren said. “Well. Maybe. Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging you, but if you start crying, _I’ll_ start crying, then we won’t stop crying, and it’ll be really embarrassing.”

That was nice to know, except Eren sort of started crying while Jean was talking and, true to his word, Jean started crying too.

“Oh, God,” Eren said again, laughing and still crying. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jean said, smiling, and leaned back in until they were pressed right up against each other again, just barely rocking back and forth.

Eren closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to stop crying already. But, _shit_ , he couldn’t believe this was happening to him.

“Well,” Mikasa said, and Eren started; he’d forgotten she was there.

“I was hoping for a kiss, but I’m sure this will make your fans very happy anyways.”

Eren gaped at her when he realized that she was holding her phone up, the sign tucked under her arm.

“You recorded that?” he asked, pulling away from Jean and swiping his jacket sleeve across his face.

She blinked innocently at him. “Why else would I be here?”

“The fact that you ship us is still literally the weirdest thing ever,” Eren said, no longer crying, but trembling and still trying to breathe normally.

“Really? You’re canon now, after all.”

Before Eren could respond, Jean said, “Turn that thing on again.”

Mikasa nodded at Jean, smiling, and Eren frowned.

“What—”

Jean grabbed Eren and—well, Eren wasn’t sure. He might have tried to pick him up. Whatever the case, Eren expected it would have gone a lot better if he had an inkling of what was coming. Unfortunately, he did not, and somehow they both ended up on the floor.

Eren laughed.

“Ow,” Jean grumbled. “I had that all planned out, you know, and it was going to be perect—”

Eren leaned forward to cup Jean’s face and pull him in for a kiss. Their noses bumped at least twice before their lips finally met, but when they did Eren sighed in relief because this was better than anything he could have imagined. Jean’s lips were so soft and warm, and his eyes fluttered shut as he settled his hand on the back of Eren’s neck.

This was…shit, this was better than any of the movies, or the fanfics. Fuck the dipping, or the picking up and twirling, or the perfectly synchronized running-to-each-other-and-immediately-kissing. Sitting on the dirty airport floor brushing his thumb across Jean’s cheek as he kissed him was infinitely better. Though probably the fact that it was Jean had something to do with it.

Eren pulled back before he could full on make out with Jean, aware that they were still in a very public space, and he said, “I do so love you, Jean Kirschtein, you glorious asshole.”

Jean smirked at him. “You’re not so bad yourself, dickface.”

Above them, Mikasa coughed. “Get a room.”

“Shut up, Mikasa,” Eren said, but he stood and offered Jean a hand up.

Smiling faintly, she spun around and started for the baggage claim. As they followed her, Jean tangled his fingers in Eren’s.

“Love you, too,” he whispered, breath tickling Eren’s ear, and Eren turned to him, blushing.

Without turning around, Mikasa said, “You do realize being canon isn’t enough, right?”

“What? How can you get better than canon?” Eren frowned.

“You can be canon but not endgame,” Mikasa said wisely, and Eren gulped.

“Hey, Jean,” he said, slowing their pace so they were out of Mikasa’s earshot (Mikasa, mercifully, allowed them to trail behind).

“Yes, dear?”

He knew Jean called him names teasingly, but damn if they didn’t make Eren’s heart beat just a little faster.

“Is the internet waiting for us…to get married?”

“I think they have been since they found out we’re dating. Possibly before.”

“Ah,” Eren said. “Do you think…you would like to do something like that someday? Marriage, I mean. With me.”

“Eren Yeager,” Jean said, “are you proposing to me?”

“No!” Eren said, face heating up. “I mean. Not…yet.”

His heart was probably going to burst right out of his chest at this rate, and not in the good way.

Not that there was a good way for hearts to burst out of chests. Hearts bursting out of chests was an all-around _bad thing_. But he meant that as in his heart was currently pounding at a dangerous rate due to nervousness and not happiness, and if he had to die because his heart decided to spontaneously burst out of his chest, he’d much rather it be out of happiness than…

Well, anyway.

“We have a lot of time to figure this out. And who knows what might happen in the future,” Jean said. His fingers, still entwined with Eren’s, gave a little squeeze. “But, yes, I do think I want to try that marriage thing with you someday.”

“Oh,” Eren whispered.

Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about his chest bursting from nervousness and not happiness anymore. Now he just needed to make sure he didn’t _actually_ die of happiness before he and Jean could get married.

He told Jean all this, and Jean gave him a bemused look.

“Your mind is _weird_.”

“I know,” Eren sighed. “But you love it.” He nudged him with his shoulder. “You love _me_.”

Jean rolled his eyes. “I do, don’t I? I do.”

“I do,” Eren returned, under his breath.

Jean caught his gaze and they were quiet for a few moments, until they both laughed, light and carefree, and hurried to catch up with Mikasa, still holding fast to each other’s hands.


End file.
